


Shadow Spell

by bluemoonwings



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Prelude to Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-06 10:03:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12815160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluemoonwings/pseuds/bluemoonwings
Summary: Cat's inner mind spills into real life as she realizes that she and Kara have been dancing around one another for a year. A snippet of the moment of recognition, with all of Cat's emotions leading up to it.





	Shadow Spell

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my muse and fic crack dealer, the beautiful and charming RoseTylerandHerDoctor
> 
>  
> 
> we stand frozen as we realize that our feelings might actually be reciprocated, and we are forced to bare a little bit of our souls when we take that chance. Recognition is breathtaking and shattering at the same time.

I have always danced alone, or so I thought. I let myself breathe only in solitude, my shadow following closely, mirroring my every action in the intermittent light, and deserting me altogether in the darkness of my shuttered heart. Each motion, and every step, taking me nowhere, but turning me ever in circles and reversals, I leaped up into illusions of liberation, a realm of free thought that I could never express aloud, alight, in life.

From our first moment, even before I watched you pull away those glasses and look at me with eyes sharper than you ever let on, I knew there was more to you. You had entered the realm of flight that no tour jete could ever match, before we had ever met. It was in your smile, your laugh, and reflected in all who beheld you. Even when we stood face to face, I looked upon my own visage in these pale—nigh offensive—pantomimes of visual impairment, believing as all the rest of the world, that you were ordinary. I could not deny, when we were face-to-face, that I was harder than you, brittle almost to breaking, but too tough like old leather bounds to ever let myself free. It was a different sort of strength from that which you enjoyed all along.

Had you been but a mere child, a vapid millennial with an empty head, you would have escaped my notice altogether. Comely as you are (and inhumanly so), it is not alone enough to catch my attention for long. However, behind the glass, I perceived your private tragedy. You thought yourself so subtle, and for all the idiots in the world, you were right, but not with me. Like a lodestone to the Pole, I was drawn to all of your shadows; to the creature of mettle behind the genial human mask.

You and I have always paced around one another. I swore that the gameplay was my power, a trump card that would have tipped the scales in nearly any struggle, but I was mistaken, for I had never met a girl of such…steel. Be as that was, you slipped just free of my little traps, and in your frustratingly disarming innocence, remained utterly oblivious of my flirtation. Vanity is a dress I have worn in every color. You could never imagine my frustration (not to mention my shattered ego) when even the most aggressive play was disentangled as though I were naught but a toddler.

I was cast into despondency, forever alone, and settling in temporary dalliances with players more eager to play and less obtuse than you. My dance of course remained singular, shadowed and alone. It is the way I generally prefer. Make no mistake, I would rather be alone than over powered, over shadowed, by another. I can never be second fiddle, a second in a corps de ballet, or a number two name on any list and be satisfied. This vanity comes in armor plated varieties too, it would seem, and woven through as many layers as there are fibers of my being. I could have sworn I was the bulletproof one.

Until I noticed my shadow moving on its own.

When I stepped, it jumped. When I turned, it darted away. A grand jete of mine was caught by its unwavering hands, and I found a height unreached before. I found it empty. A pas de deux in the singular? I was furious at its nimble little rebellion. Not even my shadow falls in sync with me? Does even the dark shade of my desire not obey without question? My steps quickened in sharp tendus, beating against the floor of my secret reality, an angry staccato beat. I whirled into a dervish filled with fury, a black swan at last come to consume the heart of purity as I reached out to face myself, my willful shadow, to banish it. I vowed never to dance again, for no where was I truly safe.

The face of my shadow was not my own, but yours.

This time I saw you not through spectacles but through the walls of my own Fortress of Solitude. You standing there, dressed too much like a schoolgirl, or a kindergarten teacher perhaps, to ever appear as fatal to everything I had built as I knew you would be.

Your own disguise in its invulnerable simplicity evaporated before my eyes. I had been so daft to miss it, and I would be even moreso to stop looking now as you approached the door that separated us, both of us gravitating toward the other.

I imagined I saw as you must. Breathless reflections, tempted by all the things we fear we can never say. A gaze two shades too intense, and a breath held a heartbeat too long. Every time I lash out, to push you away, you twitch your perfect little nose and press your lips together and say nothing. I could feel you tense, even as I readied a verbal blow that would cut you deeply and send you away. Hopefully this time, for real. For both of our sakes.

And yet, you pushed and I pulled, partners ever in this hidden dance, until the glass yielded without protest. I readied my retreat, but for once I was too clumsy and slow. Not that it would have mattered outside of the inner sanctum of my mind, for in life, even a bullet could not have deterred you. Perhaps, given my part so far, it is more that I did not want to stop your approach, but even at human speed, you would have been too fast. I moved as though through quicksand up until now, as I find myself frozen by unseen forces. Perhaps the shadows have mired me fast to the floor.

  
This is all I have by means of explanation for how I end up in your arms, and why I don’t resist as you dip me back to break the spell with a kiss.

Otherworldly beauty, I am a china doll in your arms, and melting under the heat of your gaze, at the insistence of your lips, but I have never felt so powerful as I grasp the silk of your shirt…and rip.

 


End file.
